Drowning
by swimkitching
Summary: Eric Fortescue's father is dead. Why does he feel like he is drowning?


He awoke softly; it was if he had only blinked. Most people would have assumed that fact by his appearance. The dark bags that hung from his eyes looked like they could fit the whole eye inside of them. Matching sleeping bags. The bathroom mirror glared at him, showing him curly black hair sticking out from nearly every open portion of his scalp. Charms could only fix so much; a shower was necessary.

The warm water splashed his skin relentlessly, and he thought of drowning. He had been drowning. Ever since his father had passed. Passed was the kind way to say it. As they would say "the Hufflepuff way". One year previously his father Florean Fortescue had been kidnapped and murdered by a group of death eaters.

Drowning.

Drowning is exhausting. It felt like a bludger to the gut. The world was closing in on him and there just wasn't enough space to breathe. He stepped out of the bathroom, and a tapping noise at the window startled him awake once more. Sammy the owl. He sighed and let his brother's pet in. The small tawny owl held out its leg with much disinterest, and flew off with a whip of his wings.

Eric,  
I'm coming over tomorrow (July 15th). We need to talk business.  
Steven

Steven had drowned quickly. His father's death had nearly destroyed him. For weeks Steven was despondent and wept openly and often. His tears drowned him and everyone saw it. And everybody helped. Eric drowned quietly, his tears preferring to stay inside and fill him till he burst. No one knew he needed help, except for his brother.

Why hadn't the death eaters taken him?

His father could have handled these crushing waves of emotions.  
He slammed the emotions back and grabbed his wand, unlocking the door with a flick, and slumping down the creaky steps. He knew what his brother wanted to speak about. The dairy was suffering. Drowning. His father was the best with the cows and knew how to work with them. Ever since his father died, the cows had been producing less and less milk; and one cow gave birth to a stillborn. Eric knew what was wrong, for Florean had taught both boys the secret to the best milk when they were very young.

*flashback*  
 _A small purple farmhouse in the middle of a lively green field. Two boys sat upon a large cow petting its ears. One boy, the oldest, changed its colors to purple and pink. Both boys giggled at the sight and fell off the cow. Florean enters the barn with small smile, "how's the chores going, boys?" The oldest, Eric, leapt up apologizing, "sorry dad, we got distracted." The younger boy giggled "she's pretty now". Florean laughed, ruffling his son's hair. "I suppose she is," he remarked with a grin. "You were doing your chores". The boys looked to him with confusion in their young eyes. "The key to making good ice cream is getting your milk from the happiest of cows", he spoke, eyes lighting up with pride. "And the best way to make your cows happy is to give them lots of attention."  
A vibrant maroon shape overhead caught the attention of Steven. "Ruby! Ruby!" he yelled running after the letter burdened owl. Florean laughed watching his youngest chase the owl. "It's probably the Christmas flyer for Boot's boots, he'll be disappointed."  
Eric grinned and patted the cow, changing its colors to red and green. Color magic was his favorite and he often changed his family member's clothing's colors randomly throughout the day.  
Florean looked down proudly at his artistic son and picked him up, placing him on the cow. "You have the making of a great ice cream man, son."_

"Eric!" a voice yelled waking him from his dream. "Eric, are you even listening? You need to visit the dairy, the cows are getting worse, and you've always been better with them." Steven's sharp green eyes watched his own looking for comprehension. He looked away, staring at the neatly stacked tubs of ice cream, and considered different escape methods. Steven touched his shoulder gently and spoke softer, "It's been a year, Eric. Dad would have wanted you to move on, seeing the cows again might help with your grief".  
Suddenly resolute, Eric nodded silently, grabbing his wand. "I'll watch the shop, if you need anything just floo me." Steven spoke firmly. Eric disapperated and in an instant was standing next to the familar purple barn.  
He drowned.  
Falling to his knees, shame filled his clouded mind. This place was the reason he was alive and his father was dead. This stupid, foolish place. One year ago he had decided to abandon his father at the shop and visit the cows. He took the note from his pocket, the one his father had never received.

Dad, I'm going to work with the cows today, I'll help you with the shop tomorrow. Sorry, Eric

Walking into the barn, he was greeted by a lively symphony of moos. The dismal-colored barn disagreed with cows, and smells of manure clouded the air, weighing it down. A quick cleaning spell fixed the problem.  
He did not breathe easier. He was drowning again.  
Looking into the bright brown eyes of the cows filled him too much. He broke; tears flowed from his eyes rapidly. He ran from the stalls towards the exit when a picture caught his eye. There was no mistaking the occupants of the picture. It was himself, his father, and his brother all standing outside the house smiling. All three of them were sporting very unusual colored hair and he remembered that day instantly. He was heading off to Hogwarts for the first time and was excited to show off his new feat, changing the color of people's hair. Looking at the blue-haired version of his father calmed him and took the photo off the wall. Turning it he noticed a small message:

Eric, my constant individual, don't be normal. Normal is boring. Normal is grey. Normal is death. Be color. Be life.

A tear slipped from his eye and he breathed clear. He held the picture close to him, and he felt a magic rush through his body. It spread and soon everything was alive again. The walls flashed changing colors and textures. The cows were a classic purple and pink, and he couldn't help but laugh. Smiling for the first time in a year, he went to work. He wasn't drowning anymore.


End file.
